One Less Than Seven And A Half Billion
by CyanGalaxy
Summary: The one where Phil is dead, and Dan's last video is a 'thank you'.


**A/N: 100 theme challenge ~ 92. all that I have**

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"I don't like to think about where I'd be if I had never talked to Phil online all those years ago, or never met up for the first time, or... just – ...not had him in my life for the past eight years... _God_."

Dan was shaking, he realised. His hands wouldn't stay still in his lap, and his eyes couldn't stand looking straight at the camera for more than a few seconds.

This whole video was something he was never supposed to film.

"It doesn't seem real, to be cliché... but before 2009, looking back from where I am today – everything just feels like such a different time – so hollow, and... desaturated... and just – _empty_. I see myself back then and see this confused, depressed, lost teenage, and think, 'how could that have ever been me?'"

"It doesn't seem real... but it is, and I can't get my head around it... because... it's the opposite of what I am now. And, to be fair, looking at myself from the very beginning of my YouTube career is the most hauntingly painful sensation..." An almost-smile etched itself from the corners of his lips, a simple feature being faded out by the glassiness of his eyes. His smile faulted, broke and he continued to force out syllables and form sentences he never thought he would say in a video.

"...and the most indescribable emotion of gratitude I can experience at the same time."

Dan looked down as if the camera lens, the tripod, the view finder, the blinking red glow, and the box lights were suddenly not what they were, and instead millions of people who he would share his most earnest, most intense, most broken moment with.

And yet he was okay with that... He wanted the people's hearts to never forget, for this to broadcast across the world so their two intertwined stories were undeniable, for the ray of light that this world lost would never truely die.

...But then he remembered, not a single one of those millions of eyes watching would be Phil Lester's.

The salty liquid ran down his cheeks as he sobbed though a broken inhalation. His eyes were blurry, ears filling with static white noise, and he couldn't breathe, it seamed. Something was crushing his chest, weighting it down like cement filling his lungs. It hurt, because he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe – he couldn't...

Why did he feel like the one that was dead?

He didn't dare look up. He didn't want to see a world if Phil wasn't in it, right there along side him. It was so wrong, the angry conscience within Dan's mind that needed to blame _something_ decided. How dare fate, or God – or whoever the fuck decided that Phil Lester needed to die – force Dan to live in a world without the sun.

Dan swallowed, breathed in through his nose, trembling.

He closed his eyes.

"He was the light in this world that could've save us all. I mean... God, he saved me – that's something I've never said and something he never knew, but... yeah... Phil saved me."

"And that's why I will never feel anything but unfathomable gratitude towards him. I hated the world before 2009, because if it carried on the way it did without Phil in my life, I can honestly say, I wouldn't have been in it for very long after that either."

Dan ran his shaking hands down his thighs, needing something to do that was anything but what he was doing now. He still refused to look at the camera.

"A message. A Skype call. A train. A city. A video. An apartment. A show. A book. A tour. An universe... and that was our story... and this –" Dan turned his head upwards, but his eyes were looking at something else. Something intangible. Something from the past... Possibly all of it. "– is a thank you."

And finally his gaze locked on towards the camera that was no longer just a camera. "You saved me. I owe you my life, Phil. And I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you."

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 _ **A/N**_

 _ **This literally came out of no where. I have many story ideas that I have no idea of how to turn into actual pieces, but this wasn't one of them... I wrote a few lines on notes, and suddenly then continued for another twenty minutes until I had this 650-ish word piece of me-being-a-try-hard-angsty-teen. It's rushed – that's why it sucks! And totally has nothing to do with my legitimate writing ability or anything...**_

 _ **Well... shit man, I'm now one of those phanfic writers that kill Phil. I'm sorry my smol bean ;~;**_

 _ **But, in non-angst related things, I got tickets to Interactive Introverts in Melbourne. They went online today (some delay compared to when the rest of humanity got them... so yay). The tickets I got were actual pretty good, so I'm excited! Who else is going? I need friends!**_

 _ **And sorry for the typos, I'll edit it later, when it's not 11:40 at night.**_

 _ **Bye!**_

 _ **\- CyanGalaxy**_


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